City Hall Memo; When It Comes to Humor, Giuliani Takes His Job Seriously

By DAN BARRY

Published: June 10, 1999

So this guy walks into a strip club.

Wait. That won't work. Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani shut most of them down.

Anyway, this other guy wants to go see the Mayor.

That won't work either. City Hall is virtually sealed off these days. Mayor's orders.

So anyway, Buddy Hackett somehow got into City Hall the other day to receive an award for a lifetime spent in comedy. That set the stage for the comedian with the face of Silly Putty and the Mayor with a grimace of a smile to appear for the first time together and do a little shtick.

''Welcome to City Hall,'' the Mayor said. He paused a beat before adding, ''I think.''

''So now I'm here at City Hall,'' Mr. Hackett said a few minutes later. ''And I don't owe any money.''

In a building where discourse often centers on the implications of stuff like the earned income tax credit, a joint appearance by Mr. Giuliani, the former Federal prosecutor, and Mr. Hackett, the man who starred in ''The Love Bug,'' carries a certain surreal charm, distantly echoing the famous meeting between President Nixon and Elvis Presley. One represents the establishment with a capital E; the other suggests Vegas lounge acts and racy jokes for when the kids aren't around.

Nixon reportedly had no sense of humor. But Mr. Giuliani reportedly does, one that some advisers have often lamented is too often shared only in private; for example, they say, you should hear his recitation of comic dialogue from ''Analyze This.'' And with the Mayor drawing ever nearer to running for the United States Senate next year, public displays of good-natured joking could leaven the perception that he is caustic and dour.

Of course, his likely opponent, Hillary Rodham Clinton, is not exactly Rita Rudner.

Others say that the Mayor is far from being humor-challenged. Raymond B. Harding, a close adviser and the leader of the state's Liberal Party, said that ''the epitome of humorlessness was Mayor Dinkins'' during his press conferences at City Hall. ''Compared to that,'' Mr. Harding added, ''Mr. Giuliani is a yuk.''

Mr. Giuliani's humor in public often has a Don Rickles sting to it, with occasional touches of Rodney Dangerfield's self-deprecation and a dash of Stan Laurel silliness. And, like any stand-up comic, he adjusts to his audience.

At fund-raisers and out-of-town events, he relies on the Giuliani equivalent of, ''I just flew in from La Guardia, and boy are my arms tired!'' That means milking his reputation for cracking down on organized crime and the taxi industry. He'll begin with a poor imitation of Marlon Brando in ''The Godfather,'' then joke about the obscene hand gestures he gets from cabbies when he tries to hail one from the curb.

On national television, meanwhile, he is more open to poking fun at himself. Last year, the Mayor turned in what many consider to be his finest comic performance while serving as guest host of ''Saturday Night Live.'' He played a wacky cabdriver and wore a dress in portraying an old Italian woman -- an homage of sorts to his grandmother.

But the comic Giuliani most often seen is the sharp-edged persona of his daily news conferences. It feeds the impression that he sees reporters in the same hostile light that Andrew (Dice) Clay might view an audience at a National Organization for Women convention.

If a novice reporter asks the Mayor whether he has given more thought to running for the Senate, he will say, ''Yes,'' prompting titters from his aides. And if the reporter asks whether he will share those thoughts, he will pause dramatically before saying, ''No.''

The aides roar with laughter; the reporters sit as though at a wake. And Mr. Giuliani smiles like an Atlantic City comic who has just cut down one more heckler in the back of the room.

A couple of weeks ago, a reporter asked the Mayor why he was proposing cuts in financing to the city's public libraries, cuts that were later restored. Mr. Giuliani answered in the high-pitched whine of a child denied ice cream for breakfast: ''Oh, yeah, like be efficient. Uh. Oh my God, they're going to have to be efficient.'' His aides laughed at that too.

Lately, the possibility that Mrs. Clinton might challenge him in a Senate race has provided Mr. Giuliani with repeated opportunities to point out that she does not live in New York. He did a minute's riff on the subject last week, and all that was missing was a drum's ba-dum-dum after each punch line.

When asked for reaction to Mrs. Clinton's comment that New York politicians should clean up the school system, he answered sarcastically: ''I think people in this state should, and people from out of the state can be helpful by making remarks like that.''

Asked about reports that Mrs. Clinton was talking to political consultants, he gave an exaggerated shrug -- igniting cackles from his aides -- and then said: ''She should talk to political consultants. She could learn something about New York.''

Asked about the First Lady's visit to the City University of New York, he said, ''Well, I'm glad she found her way there.''

Then there are the less guarded moments, the times when Mr. Giuliani mugs genially for the cameras after being handed a piece of pizza or a silly hat. Sometimes the laughter consumes his businesslike demeanor, as when a troupe of singing dogs paid a visit to City Hall a couple of years ago.

His aides point out that Mr. Giuliani is the Mayor, not some cut-up walking around with a joy buzzer cupped in his hand. ''He has a terrific sense of humor,'' said his friend and former Deputy Mayor, Peter J. Powers. ''The problem is, he gets asked about serious things all the time. He can't be out there laughing.''

Tuesday underscored that point. Mr. Giuliani spent the morning at a funeral on Long Island for a firefighter who died after being injured in a blaze last week. And in the afternoon he helped present the George Burns Award -- sponsored by the Friars Club and the Toyota Comedy Festival -- to Mr. Hackett, 74, whose Catskills style of humor is back in vogue.

The bits shared by Mr. Giuliani and Mr. Hackett will not have people recalling the heyday of Abbott and Costello, but they played their parts well. Mr. Giuliani wore a conservative blue suit with a white shirt, while Mr. Hackett sported a black shirt under a jazzy brown suit. It seemed all the funnier that they were performing beneath a portrait of Henry Clay, the great orator.

''Buddy was born in Brooklyn, where legendary comics like Jackie Gleason, Mel Brooks, Alan King, Woody Allen -- and me -- were born,'' the Mayor said in his introductory remarks. Then he turned to Mr. Hackett and said, ''Somehow that didn't work.''

''Yeah it did,'' came the marble-mouthed reply.

After Mr. Hackett and his Friars Club buddies filed out of the room, Mr. Giuliani returned to the business of the city, once again answering questions from the audience. But Mr. Hackett's lingering influence became apparent when an aide handed the Mayor a slip of paper.

''I'm reminded that I have to do a heat announcement,'' he said. Then came the punch line: ''It's hot.''

Photo: Mayor Rudolph W. Giuliani and the comedian Buddy Hackett did a little shtick together at City Hall on Tuesday. (Billy Smith 2d/The New York Times)